Liar, Liar
by coffeeforgeri
Summary: Sam points at Pretty Boy—"Blaine Anderson. Don't be fooled by the looks." Little does Sam know, I already have been fooled by them. "Kurt," Rachel tugs my sleeve and I turn to her. "He's the worst. You cannot have any interaction with him. At all." "Rachel's right. Blaine might look friendly and innocent, but he's downright evil. He's the biggest liar of them all." -AU-


**AN: Hey guys! It's been a while since I've posted here. This is the product of my boredom and my active imagination. I hope you like this story c:**

**I don't own Glee.**

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_-Kurt-_

I never realized how long an hour could be till I sat in front of my first Physics class in Clarkson High. It was so hard to concentrate with the numbers and formulas and the other complicated stuff written on the board this early in the morning. Whoever decided to make Physics our first period probably hates students. I was already five seconds close to finally resting my head that has been nodding off for the past 30 minutes when I heard the loud obnoxious ringing of the school bell. The. Freakin. Bell. Finally. Rang. And before anyone else stood up, I was out of the room with my sky-high pile of books.

I'm normally not like this. I swear. I'm usually active in classes especially in the challenging ones, but today was obviously one of those days...Who am I kidding? Of course, it was one of those days! I just transferred to this school like, two days ago and I don't have a single friend or a single person who I could talk to (yes, this includes the teachers. For some reason, I never really see them anywhere besides class). And sure, the classes are earlier and more advanced than they were in McKinley, but I'll manage. I always do. I'm like this driftwood that just goes with the flow of the ocean...

As I walked down the hall, I could hear people whispering around me. It looks so pathetic and stupid for them to be unaware that I know they're talking about me. Or maybe they know, but they just don't care. I can hear them mumbling the words "new kid", "transferee", -and the best one yet—"gay kid". I just brushed off the judgmental looks being shot towards me and made my way to my locker, which was conveniently right across the buzzing crowd. I was trying my best not to bump into people or make eye contact with anyone.

When I reached my locker, I immediately opened it and began to arrange my books neatly inside. But of course, Since my first week was already going _awesome_, the orientation papers I got from the administrator's office earlier decided to slide out of my file folder and scatter all over the place.

"Great, Hummel. Just great. Now, every eye in the entire corridor is on you." I cursed angrily under my breath. I dropped on fours and began to gather every sheet of paper that flew out—which were a lot—and finally, when I was about to reach for the last one, another hand beat me to it. I looked up and saw a tiny—woah, okay. Really tiny—girl with really long brown straight hair and full bangs that almost hid her eyes. She smiled at me and handed me the last one of my orientation papers with a cheerful bright smile on her face. "Hey there!" she said "You must be Kurt Hummel."

I took the blasted paper from her and stood up properly. "How did you know my name?" I asked. "Everyone knows you."—I was going to ask her how exactly, does everyone know me, but she cut me off by grabbing my free hand and shaking it enthusiastically—"Hi. I'm Rachel Barbra Berry." I was taken aback by the sudden gesture, but then I decided just to go and play along with it. I can't be grumpy for the whole day. I need to make some friends, too. Even if the first one I make is this hyperactive girl. "Hi." I said and returned her smile.

"So, do you have a student guide?" she asked.

"A student guide? Well, I thought I..." I trailed off. Nope. I didn't have a student guide. I was asked by the administrator if I needed one, but I politely refused it, thinking that I could work things out on my own. And I soon discovered that that was one of the most horrible decisions I have ever made in my entire life. "No! I don't have a student guide. In fact, I think I really need one..." I didn't bother to hide the desperation in my voice. Maybe Rachel Barbra Berry here can get me one. "Great! I'll be most honoured and glad to guide you through everything you'll have to do in this school...well, until you're ready to do stuff on your own...I mean, it's just an offer..." her eyes looked really hopeful. And she seems nice so maybe a few weeks with her wouldn't hurt. "That would be wonderful." I exclaimed, and before I knew it, I was being dragged through the crowded halls by a small, but surprisingly strong girl. I wanted to ask her the way to my next class, but I had no idea how to address her. She paused and then turned around for a second. She smiled at me and as though she read what was on my mind, said "You can just call me Rachel, Kurt Hummel." I nodded. "Oh. Okay. Rachel. Got it. And you can just call me Kurt."

Once we were at the courtyard, she motioned toward the biggest tree that was there. When we got under it, she gently plopped down on the grass. "Sit." She said. I did as I was told. "What are we doing here?" I asked. "We are going to get you familiarized with Clarkson's student body." She gestured at the huge crowd of people just a few feet in front of us, but away from earshot. Before I could tell her to get started, she took out her phone and began to call someone. "Where are you?" she asked frantically to the person she was speaking to. "Hurry up!" she commanded before hanging up.

"I'm sorry about that." Rachel turns to me and smiles cheerfully. "That was Sam. He's on his way here." But before I could ask her who exactly this "Sam" is, she looked away and waved her arm at a blonde boy wearing a black polo shirt, dark blue jeans, and red plimsolls. He just entered the courtyard and he was searching through the area for something. When he spotted Rachel, he began to run towards us. When he reached the place where we were sitting comfortably on the grass, he dropped down next to Rachel and sat with his legs crossed. "Hey." He greeted.

"Hi." I replied politely, although I still have no idea who he is or why he's here. Rachel must have sensed my awkwardness and introduced us. "Sam, this is Kurt. Kurt, this is Sam."

"A pleasure to meet you, Kurt Hummel." Sam said, extending his hand. I stared at it for a good five seconds before I realized that I was supposed to shake it. I took it and immediately let go. "It's nice to meet you, too, Sam."

"Sam's my best friend." Rachel began. "Don't mind him. He's nice."

"I really am." Sam chimes in. "Unless Rach here gives me a reason not to be." He nudges her in the ribs and Rachel shoots him a glare, and then shakes it off. She looks at me with the same cheerful expression she had when we met earlier. "Anyway, we'll be your student guides for as long as you like."

"We? Why would I need two people to guide me through the school?" Shoot. I hadn't realized that I said that out loud 'till the words left my mouth. That was probably impolite, but the two didn't seem to notice. Or care.

"Oh, you will need two." says Sam. "Most transferees experience difficulty in adjusting with the school system...they find it so hard that they drop out in less than a month after their enrolment."

"This is why everyone knows you, Kurt." Rachel continues. "It's been a while since we've had new students who aren't freshmen come in. We've all been here since first year." She gestured at the crowd in front of us. Sam nodded in agreement.

Somehow knowing this thing about the school's reputation to scare off transferees makes me feel uncomfortable to be inside its walls. When my dad told me about moving to another town and away from McKinley, he never told me about the school I was going to transfer to. I only found out that I was already enrolled to this private school (which I still have no idea how he and Carole managed to afford) and that I was gonna start by Monday. I shifted uncomfortably in my position. Rachel and Sam seemed to notice the worry in my eyes.

"But don't worry!" Sam says reassuringly. "That's why me and Rach are here. We're gonna see you through this until you're ready to do stuff on your own. See those people?" he looked at the crowd of students still chattering and minding their own businesses with their friends. "They—_We_ make up the Clarkson student body." I tilted my head to the side; asked for more information. Sam continued.

"We have the nerds, the geeks—"

"Wait. There's a difference between the two?"

"Yes."-He nods and continues as if I didn't interrupt him.-"The jocks, cheerleaders, teachers' pets, snobs, the popular, cool kids, cool kids who don't care, wannabes, hippies, and yadda yadda—We have all of them." He ended by taking a huge gasp for air. He talked so fast that he forgot to breathe.

"And you guys?" I pointed to the two of them.

"Glee." Rachel answered. "We're glee clubbers."

"Oh." Was the only thing that left my mouth. A month ago, I thought McKinley had the biggest number of stereotypes. I guess I was wrong.

"So is there anyone I ought to not hang out with?" I ask. Sam glances at the group of students and then looks back at me. "Actually, they're all okay."

I blinked. Okay. Okay? Okay. So why tell me about these groups of people if they're all okay? And why do transferees drop out from the school if the student body is okay? But before I could ask him one of the many questions that were now popping into my head one by one, he explains further, as if he read my thoughts. "There's really one group you have to watch out for. They're the most infamous one in the entire school. You don't want to mess with them."

And just as if on cue, a small group of seven students enter the courtyard. Each of them wore really nice and neat clothes that could only be made by expensive high-end clothing stores. The group was led by three boys. The first one in the crowd was freakishly tall like Finn. He is really handsome, but the smirk on his face made him look like he was up to no good. With one look, I knew that he's one of those rich kids who get whatever they want with a single snap of their fingers. The person standing next to him was a boy with average height but has a build of a professional wrestler. He was equally as handsome but his look seemed to intimidate everyone who saw him. He had the word "Bully" written across his face. The third person standing next to Wrestler was another boy, but this one looked more _normal_ than the first two. He was almost my height, with black curly hair, and a physique which implies that he's either an athlete or he works out. He's equally handsome as the first two, but there was something different with his face. His smile. It seemed more friendly, and cheerful than Rich Kid and Wrestler's. The third guy's a pretty boy.

The students who were there first immediately made way for the group. Everyone left their tables and gathered to the side. Even the group of popular kids scurried away like a line of ants that had been stepped on.

"Them." I almost forgot that Sam was telling me something. I was so distracted by the new group of people who came into the courtyard. I looked at him and I saw that we, including Rachel, were staring at the same direction. Or maybe I should say "glaring" in their case. "They're Clarkson's legacy students. Generations of their families went to this very school."

"Wow." I said breathily.

"Don't be amazed." Rachel snaps. I turn to her and I see that she's no longer looking at the crowd but at the patch of grass next to her. "They're just pathetic losers who think that just because they have a lot of money, they're the most important people in the school. And just because of their stupid bloodline, they think that they have the right to make the others feel like scum." She was almost whispering, but I sensed the bitterness and the venom in her voice. I looked at Sam with concerned eyes, but he only sighed heavily.

"Anyway," Sam continued "No matter what happens, try your best to stay out of their way. Just as Rach said, they think highly of their bloodline. The group has three leaders."

"You see that guy over there?"—he points at Rich Kid—"That is Sebastian Smythe."

"Stay away from him. He's a total bitch." Rachel cuts in. "And that"—she points at Wrestler—"is David Karofsky. He likes to be called by his surname. Thinks he's cool and badass when really, he's just freakin' annoying."

"He's not the brightest bulb either. He had to take the review exam four times." adds Sam. "And the last, but most definitely not the least,"—He points at Pretty Boy—"Blaine Anderson. Don't be fooled by the looks."

Little does Sam know, I already have been fooled by them.

"Kurt," Rachel tugs my sleeve and I turn to her. "He's the worst. You cannot have any interaction with him. At all."

"Rachel's right. Blaine might look friendly and innocent, but he's downright evil. He's the biggest liar of them all."

"Blaine..." I mouthed. I looked at him silently seated next to Sebastian and Karofsky. The smile on his face and the brightness of his eyes can really fool a person into thinking that he's the good guy. But I have already been warned. I can't fall under this Pretty Boy's spell no matter how harmless he looks.

"Together, they're known as The Three B's." said Rachel.

"Three B's?"

"Three Bastards." Sam replied casually. Rachel and I couldn't help but snicker at the term. "But of course, they don't know this. They think it means Three Bachelors." added Rachel.

"They hate transferees, like you." I turned my head to Sam. He stared directly into my eyes. I could tell that this was a serious business. "This is the reason why no new student lasts for more than a month. It's because of them. They do all sorts of stuff to the transferees when they get into their way. They pull pranks; put them in all kinds of situations. It's kind of like their initiation to them. If the new kid can't get out of the mess they pulled, then the group will think that he or she isn't "worthy" to be in Clarkson."

I suddenly felt my heart rate increase. Surely nobody has died during one of these so called "initiations", right? No. I know my dad wouldn't enrol me into a school that has a group of psychos who torture people for fun. It's simple. Just as Sam said. I have to stay out of their way. But what if I can't? What if I accidentally bump into one of them in the hallway or something?

"What about the administration?" I asked. "Why aren't they doing anything?"

"They can't." Rachel answers. "The legacies' families invest a lot on the school. They can't just pinpoint at their children and kick them out. Plus, since the transferees are afraid of the Legacies, they don't really talk about why they want to get out of Clarkson's walls as soon as possible. They're scared to rat the group out so they make stupid excuses like the lessons are too hard and advanced."

Sam must have noticed my silence and said "Kurt, you don't have to be worried. Really."

Not worried? How can I possibly not be worried? I was fine in McKinley! But now I'm in a school where bullies don't come in individual persons—No. They come in a _group_. A group full of rich assholes who think highly of themselves and have the agenda to ruin the lives of anyone who _tries_ to become a student in this school. Yes. After finding out about this, I can certainly, most positively not be worried. Thanks a lot, Sam.

I decided to remain silent instead of bursting out all of my rage. I didn't want to show Rachel and Sam how shaken I am about this.

"Just stick with us." Rachel says, patting me gently on the shoulder. "They can't get near us."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because of me." Sam answers and sits up. "I'm the headmaster's son. They lay a finger on me or on my friends, and they're out of the school regardless of their legacies."

Once again, my eyes grew big in amazement. Simple Sam over here is the headmaster's son.

"But if you're the headmaster's son, then why couldn't you just tell your father about the group's misbehaviour?"

"As Rach said a while ago, there's not enough evidence to show that the group is causing the transferees to leave. But Sebastian, Karofsky, and Blaine know me. They know for a fact that I'm not afraid to rat them out if they do anything to me."

For a moment, I was staring off into the distance; processing the information I've just gathered. I just have to watch out for that group over there, and Sebastian Smythe, David Karofsky, and Blaine Anderson.—especially Blaine Anderson.

Rachel suddenly broke the intense silence by asking me a question. "Kurt, do you sing?" I felt like I was pulled out of icy water and back into reality. "Yes." I replied enthusiastically. "Yes, I love to sing!"

"Why don't you audition for glee?" Sam chimes in. I look at him and then back to Rachel. They both look very excited and eager to have me join the club. I thought for a moment. "Everyone is safe from those three in glee club." Sam added, as if it would help me decide faster, and it actually did.

"I'll think about it." I finally replied. But at the back of my mind, I think I've already made my decision.

"Well, if you do decide to try out, we're holding auditions later, in the afternoon." Rachel said. She didn't bother to hide the desperation in her voice, like she really wanted me to show up.

At the sound of the bell, we all stood up and made our way back to the school building. It was convenient that Sam and Rachel were attending the same classes as me (at least until the second to the last period), so that means they could accompany me almost everywhere. With the three of us walking together, I kind of feel safe already. I made two friends today. And I guess this was the best thing that has happened so far since my transfer to Clarkson.

We were just about to leave the courtyard when I took one last glance at the crowd. Rachel tugged me by the sleeve so I wasn't able to make sure if what I've seen was real. But I could have sworn that I saw Blaine Anderson staring at our direction. Staring at me.

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**AN: I'm so sorry if I'm not the best writer. I still have so much to learn. More chapters are gonna come up soon. Lots of love ~ Geri**


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